


peachy

by solyn



Category: Choices: Ride or Die, Choices: Stories You Play
Genre: M/M, also mention of mc x mona, blood mentions, logan watched tatbilb directly before attempting this but he's too dumbass to pull it off properly, pixelberry hire me, rated t for swearing & some mention of the whole teppei leg break thing, ximena and toby r also here but they're not really doing that much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solyn/pseuds/solyn
Summary: Colt doesn't know how he feels about his father's attack. Logan doesn't know all that much about grand romantic gestures, but he does know how he feels about Colt.-otherwise known as rod should be gayer and i guess it's up to me to make it so





	peachy

**Author's Note:**

> to anyone who followed me for not shitty visual novel fanfic: i'm so sorry. not beta'd so all mistakes are on me

Colt Kaneko didn’t make a habit of feeling things. His mother had never been part of his life, and his father had been distant at best, absent at worse. It became habit to simply not feel. It worried him, as he sat hunched against the wall outside his father’s office. His hands were raw and pink, still tingling. He had scrubbed for a good half an hour, viciously. If Ximena had spotted him, she would asked if he was trying to take the skin clean off.

 

And maybe he was.

 

He tried to tug the sleeves of his leather jacket over his hands to hide them from his line of sight. The seams caught at his shoulder, so Colt shoved a hand under each armpit and hunched forward even more, brow furrowed tightly as he leaned in so that his forehead was only inches from his knees. His hands felt warm and cold at the same time, too sensitive and too numb. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw them covered in blood again. Colt might not have been a medical student, but even he knew a break that caused bleeding was very  _ very _ bad.

 

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to feel a thing. The rolling of his gut was more to do with nausea- he’d never been very good with blood; it had been a trial getting through the Saw movies with his friends from high school- than it was anxiety. His father could have died, and probably would if they couldn’t complete the job the Brotherhood wanted from him, and Colt Kaneko felt a blissful nothing. An emptiness. Maybe some would have been glad to feel nothing, but a distant, nagging voice asked Colt if this was what it was like to be his father, did he really want to be like him?

 

The scuffing of shoes dragged him out of his thoughts as a pair of battered converse stepped into his line of sight. Colt lifted his eyes to look at Logan. Logan Nunier was a year younger than him, an inch taller, and infinitely more of a pain in the ass than anyone Colt had ever met, including the film majors he’d met at college. Part of this was because Colt thought he was very hot, but Logan knowing that Colt thought that was definitely not on the cards because Logan was running around with some high school nerd-  _ Wheeler _ , his brain supplied absently- who in turn was clearly fawning over Mona.

 

“What,” Colt said, clearing his throat a little when his voice cracked. Not exactly the picture of strength he’d been hoping to portray, but it was too late now to take it back. Logan shifted from foot to foot, but he didn’t pounce on the silver-platter served opportunity to needle Colt. Instead, he looked sympathetic, which was somehow worse. “Let me guess,” Colt tried again, slipping easily into his snappish tone, “you’re here to tell me there’s no place in the Mercy Park Crew for anyone who just freezes up like that, right? Because you’re Daddy’s Favourite, right? And that’s just so important to you,  _ right _ ?” Logan shook his head vehemently.

 

“No! No, I just- I- here,” Logan swung his hand out toward Colt, extending a can toward him. Colt gawked at him in shock, fingers hovering just above the cool metal. “Toby said it was your favourite and I… figured you could use a pick me up after the day we just had.” Logan averted his gaze, but Colt couldn’t look away. Backlit by the harsh fluorescents of the garage his brown skin looked a shade darker, his hair fell about his face like a sheer curtain, and the rosiness in his cheeks stood out starkly. He looked almost angelic, and younger than Colt remembered him to be, with the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose becoming apparent to him.

 

“I don’t need your charity,” Colt managed to snap out. He snatched the can of peach drink anyway, popping the tab and taking a sip. Logan laughed, lifting a hand to rest against the back of his neck as he smiled at Colt, almost fondly. Colt narrowed his eyes at him, and Logan touched his tongue to his lower lip, trying to bite back the smile.

 

“Can I sit?” He gestured to the wall next to Colt. Colt slid his eyes sideways, and then shrugged.

 

“Free country.”

 

His eyes tracked Logan as he shuffled closer, lowering himself down against the wall next to Colt. He was sitting close enough that their shoulders touched, legs stretched all the way out with his hands folded across his chest. Colt draped one of his elbows over his knees, watching him. Logan lolled his head to the side, and gave him a tired smile. Colt flicked his eyes away, across the empty garage to his bike. Mona’s car. The new girl’s sleek, emerald-coloured Japanese import. He wasn’t sure how she’d managed to get the custom paint blend, but she’d surprised him in more ways than one since the first time Logan had brought her around.

 

“How are you doing?” Colt asked, after a long moment. “I guess it’s been a long day for everyone.”

 

“Funny,” Logan exhaled a humourless laugh, “I was about to ask  _ you _ the same thing.”

 

“Thanks, but I don’t need you to be my white knight,” Colt sipped at his drink again, leaning forward to pick at some dried blood near the heel of his combat boot, “it’s whatever. We all knew what we were getting into with my father, and he knew the risks of saying ‘no thanks’ to the Brotherhood.”

 

“Still. It’s okay to not be okay, you know. He is your dad, after all.”

 

“Is he?” The words were out of Colt’s mouth before he could stop them. He pursed his lips, as Logan looked away. Colt’s grip tightened on the can, denting it under his thumb. “What are you, anyway? My therapist or something? I’ll be fine. I just… wasn’t expecting the break to be that bad.” The image of it flashed behind his eyes and he blinked rapidly, trying to fight the roiling nausea in his stomach.

 

“Right,” said Logan, quietly. They lapsed into silence that Colt wouldn’t have called comfortable. Gloom hung over them. The room was quiet, with only the buzz of the lights and the occasional noise from the street outside to break the tension. Absently, Colt catalogued the rest of the gang. Ximena and Toby would be on their second medical run of the night, followed by a stop for food probably. Mona had made a lame excuse about having somewhere to be, when the odds were she was going to sneak into somewhere she shouldn’t have been in order to be anywhere but the garage, and Ellie had caught a lift home with her.

 

Logan tipped his head back against the wall, the motion drawing Colt’s attention. He looked exhausted, Colt realised, the bruising on his face having turned the putrid green that meant ‘healing’ but somehow seemed the opposite. Colt glanced away after a moment, sipping idly at his drink and picking at the seam of his jeans.

 

“I’m sorry he wasn’t good to you,” Logan said, voice quiet.

 

“Yeah,” Colt shrugged, “me too. Guess you were his second chance. I think by the time you’re sixteen if you’re fucked up you’re fucked up. No going back from that point.” Logan huffed out a laugh, tilting his head to look at Colt. He met his eyes briefly, with a small, unhappy smile, before he looked away. “Everyone else seems so upset. You, Ximena, Toby… even Mona. I can count the number of times I’ve seen her express an emotion on one hand with fingers to spare, you know? But I just… I can’t. I don’t feel anything, I just feel numb.” He slumped back against the wall, rubbing his thumb over the dent he’d created in the can.

 

“I’m sorry,” Logan said again, “I know that probably doesn’t help all that much but… I am.” Colt jolted, eyes snapping downward abruptly as Logan’s hand landed on his elbow. He watched, feeling as if time had slowed, as Logan carefully pulled his arm toward him, and slid his fingers down the inside of his wrist to twine with Colt’s own. He gave his hand a squeeze, and smiled at Colt in a manner that seemed almost shy.

 

“I know we’ve… had our differences,” Logan said, “but you’re part of the Crew, which means you’re part of the family. And if you need someone to lean on… well. I’ve been told I have pretty good shoulders.” Colt rolled his eyes hard enough that it would have given a lesser man a headache, and Logan laughed, deep and rumbling. The sound made Colt’s cheeks heat, as he tried to jerk his hand away, finding it held in a vice like grip.

 

“God forbid I inflate your ego any more,” Colt shook his head, “but… thanks.” After a hesitant moment, he gave Logan’s hand a squeeze, watching him flush instantly to the roots of his hair. He shook his head, using his right leg to push himself further left, closer to Logan, so that their shoulders were wedged together, shared warmth spreading through layers of fabric.

 

“You’re welcome,” Logan said, before nodding at Colt’s peach drink, “if we’re friends now, can I try some of that drink? It was  _ so  _ hard to find.”

 

“There’s an Asian grocer right around the corner that sells them?”

 

“I thought they’d be sold in regular supermarkets! Toby made them sound like they were a super well-recognized brand!” Colt choked back a laugh.

 

“Jesus Christ, you are  _ so  _ fucking stupid,” Logan pouted, leaning over Colt to reach for the can, “hey! If you were curious, you should have got your own.” He was laughing now, using their joined hands to put weight on Logan’s arm, even as he stretched for Colt’s drink. Finally, he flopped back in frustration, and Colt quickly chugged the last of it, and crumpled the can in his hand.

 

“Asshole,” Logan grumbled, trying to tug his hand loose. Cole tightened his grip on it, with a genuinely warm smile. Logan met his eyes, his own smile wide and brilliant like the sun. Colt was struck by the sudden urge to kiss him, and so he quickly looked away. Logan’s gaze dropped as well, but the smile remained.

 

“So,” he said conversationally, “do you want to… I don’t know, talk about your feelings?”

 

“This isn’t a slumber party,” Colt said, “and I never agreed to us being friends.” Logan laughed at that, but there was no witty comeback. The pair of them lapsed into silence again, as Colt closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. Exhaustion had settled into his bones, and the events of the day suddenly felt as if they’d sucked every ounce of energy he’d ever had directly out of his body. The silence was comfortable, and Logan was warm against his side. It was no great effort to let sleep take him.

 

“Cooooooolt?” Toby’s voice rang around the garage not half an hour later, as he wobbled through the door with a stack of take-out as Ximena held it open with the toe of her boot. There was no response, and the pair looked at each other warily. Toby quickly unloaded the food onto a workbench as Ximena closed the door to the garage behind them. He inhaled, gearing up to call again, when he saw Ximena shushing him, and beckoning him over.

 

Toby rounded Kaneko’s car, and a smile crossed his face. Against the wall of his father’s office, Colt was nestled against Logan, the pair of them quite contentedly asleep. Logan’s head was resting on Colt’s shoulder, and Colt’s cheek against the top of his head, his knees having fallen slackly to the side so that they were resting in Logan’s lap. Atop his knees, his hand was laced with Logan’s, discarded peach drink can near the toe of his combat boots. For the first time in a long time, they both looked peaceful. Ximena and Toby shared a knowing look. When she spoke, Ximena’s voice was no more than a whisper.

 

“I’ll get a blanket.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on my choices sideblog @greensconnor! thanks for reading


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